effe to Crevel, packing
his cards and laying them down in front of him.

A light kindled in the eyes of this man, decrepit at the age of
forty-seven; a faint color flushed his flaccid cold cheeks, his
ill-furnished mouth was half open, and on his blackened lips a sort
of foam gathered, thick, and as white as chalk. This fury in such a
helpless wretch, whose life hung on a thread, and who in a duel would
risk nothing while Crevel had everything to lose, frightened the
Mayor.

"I said," repeated Crevel, "that I should like to see Madame
Marneffe's face. And with all the more reason since yours, at this
moment, is most unpleasant. On my honor, you are horribly ugly, my
dear Marneffe----"

"Do you know that you are very uncivil?"

"A man who has won thirty francs of me in forty-five minutes cannot
look handsome in my eyes."

"Ah, if you had but seen me seventeen years ago!" replied the clerk.

"You were so good-looking?" asked Crevel.

"That was my ruin; now, if I had been like you--I might be a mayor and
a peer."

"Yes," said Crevel, with a smile, "you have been too much in the wars;
and of the two forms of metal that may be earned by worshiping the god
of trade, you have taken the worse--the dross!" [This dialogue is
garnished with puns for which it is difficult to find any English
equivalent.] And Crevel roared with laughter. Though Marneffe could
take offence if his honor were in peril, he always took these rough
pleasantries in good part; they were the small coin of conversation
between him and Crevel.

"The daughters of Eve cost me dear, no doubt; but, by the powers!
'Short and sweet' is my motto."

"'Long and happy' is more to my mind," returned Crevel.

Madame Marneffe now came in; she saw that her husband was at cards
with Crevel, and only the Baron in the room besides; a mere glance at
the municipal dignitary showed her the frame of mind he was in, and
her line of conduct was at once decided on.

"Marneffe, my dear boy," said she, leaning on her husband's shoulder,
and passing her pretty fingers through his dingy gray hair, but
without succeeding in covering his bald head with it, "it is very late
for you; you ought to be in bed. To-morrow, you know, you must dose
yourself by the doctor's orders. Reine will give you your herb tea at
seven. If you wish to live, give up your game."

"We will pay it out up to five points," said Marneffe to Crevel.

"Very good--I have scored two," replied the Mayor.